Becoming unpredictable
by Kateepoo
Summary: A few years after the Battle of Hogwarts, the Golden Trio are all settling into their new found, war free lives. Hermione deals with the decisions she's made in her love life with Ron. She finds that being complacent is not something she can succeed in, and yearns for something else. WARNING: Some Hr/R & H/G pairing in the beginning.
1. Chapter 1

**AN:**  
 **Hi all. So, this would be my first time publishing anything here. I know I know, another newbie virgin writer huh. And I don't have a beta or anything like that so, apologies for any mistakes. If something doesn't read correctly, let me know. Some words will be spelt differently to American English, purely because I'm from Australia. Otherwise don't hesitate to review or point something out to me. Just don't be a d***.  
Longer term, I'm hoping to have this as a continuing story. But, like I said if something doesn't fit quite right or if there isn't a following then, I'll just leave as is I guess.**

 **This is a femslash story, so obviously click away if this doesn't tickle your fancy. Everything's canon up the the Battle of Hogwarts. Rated M for possible future chapters, when and if it gets to that point I'll make a note of it. Direct thoughts are in italics, just in case you were wondering.**

 **Obviously I don't own any kind of rights to Harry Potter, it's FAN Fiction. But thank Merlin that Queen Rowling still let's us play around in her universe.**

Becoming Unpredictable

Chap. 1

Starting Safe

"Well, we're going to find a way to get together whether you believe it'll happen or not." Hermione narrowed her eyes fiercely at Ron, who in response threw his hands up in mock defence, his goofy expression giving away his demeanour.

"I'm not saying you won't, just you know what her and training is like. Just trying to be realistic." He circled around the kitchen bench and behind the brunette to steal a slice of carrot she'd just cut. She merely rolled her eyes to herself. Hermione was so very familiar to that Weasley state of constant hunger. _Ever so predictable you are Ron._

You see, to Hermione Ron was ultimately predictable. Everything about him was so typically 'Ron', it was nauseating. And you know what I mean already; red hair, freckles, quick temper and that awkward, bumbling charm of his. All of these qualities made him safe, a safe option for Hermione. Safe because she could always depend on him to never change. Like a rigged experiment, she could always expect the same result every time, without fault.

"You're right, I know her training schedule is always hectic. But I do miss seeing both Ginny and Harry. And Merlin knows that man needs to get out more than what he does" The red head made his way behind her, and closed his arms softly around her waist.

"I'm not saying you'll never get around to seeing her. Or even Harry, and yes he gets in his head sometimes I know. But Ginny's not exactly the easiest person to catch up with. Even as a sister." Ron tried to reassure the woman it wasn't her fault. "How about, end of the week this Friday we try to make plans to have dinner together? All four of us, like old times." Ron grinned widely, turning his head to try and read Hermione's face. The witch smirked softly, allowing her partners joy to catch on her face.

"You're right, that sounds wonderful." She put her knife down and turned her head to look him in the eye. "Maybe you could get Harry to talk to Ginny's coach? Make sure there's no surprise training session. You know how she's always been a huge fan of him." She made a suggestive face, raising her eyebrows humorously as she finished. Ron gave a silent guffaw and hummed agreement, before kissing the woman in his arms on the cheek and heading out of the kitchen.

Hermione felt a great deal of her emotional tension dissipate as her boyfriend left the room. Not that she didn't love him, she wouldn't be with him if she didn't. But she knew, more than knew even, she practically existed as the fact itself. The fact that Ron wasn't her true soulmate. She had already found that person, and by lucky chance they had found her too. But in this she had found that just as kind and giving that fate can be, so it can be just as much cruel.

She shut her eyes and took a moment to compose herself, leaning her weight on the bench. She pushed back thoughts and clear memories, forming in her mind, and steeled herself. _Don't take it out on him, it's all on you._  
"I'm gonna' floo Harry quickly then, ask him if Friday works for them both," he called from what she could tell was the fireplace of the lounge room.  
"Alright then, darling." The witch took a few more concentrated breaths, eyes still held shut. _Merlin knows if I don't pet name him every chance I get he'll think I'm upset._

Aside from being predicable, or more rather an effect of it, Ron was also needy when it came to their relationship and needed constant reassurance. Obviously they had both been through the whole ordeal of war just a few years back, but it didn't seem to mature the man a whole lot emotionally.  
Perhaps it was the war itself that was to blame. Perhaps growing up with an entire line of older, typically successful brothers made him insecure. Perhaps it was being placed at the side of the wizarding world's 'Chosen One', and the pressure of living up to that reputation. Or perhaps it was just something that he always had inside of him, contained within his predictable-ness.

Hermione abstained the thoughts dwelling in her mind and opened her eyes. Gripping the knife in her hand again, she picked up where she left off with the vegetables. Cooking and preparing food the old fashioned muggle way helped her focus her mind. It gave her thought process the opportunity to zone out. Like playing a song in the background, without needing to take note of the lyrics. Something to grasp onto when her emotions began to rise to the surface. That was somewhere for her, she absolutely couldn't have them.

Ron's head appeared in the kitchen entrance, a broad smile framing his face and showing genuinely in his pale blue eyes. Hermione admired that glint of pure joy that would show up in his eyes every so often.  
"Friday's all set! Their place, at 7. Harry said he'd make sure they'd both be there. Looks like you'll get your wish then love." _The only one that you know of at least_

"Sounds perfect." A rush of contained panicked nerves hit Hermione, as the realisation of what was to come washed over her. Her skin started to tingle, like tiny electrodes, and she could feel her breathing starting to hitch. Her throat clenched so tight she thought she couldn't inhale. Something she both wished for so terribly deeply, was the same thing she dreaded and hoped to avoid more than anything else; to be reunited with the very root and cause of her internal conflict. The aforementioned true soulmate.

 _Ginny._


	2. Chapter 2

**Hello again to anyone still following along. I do appreciate it! And I will say yes I know it has been a terribly long amount of time. I'm not making any promises, but I will say that I hope to keep on this a** l **ittle more regularly...More often than like 8 months anyway.**

 **Apologies in advance for any spelling or grammatical mistakes. Please let me know.**

 **I will warn there is a bit of hetero and Hr/R action towards the end, just keep that in mind.**

 **On with it then.**

* * *

For Hermione, the entirety of the week went by in a daunting kind of blur. She tried, gods how she tried, to come up with some sort of exit strategy for the dreaded dinner.

On Monday she considered purposefully withdrawing herself from all interactions at the upcoming dinner, so as to not engage her emotions. But there was still the need to be polite and civil at the least, so there went that idea. On Tuesday and Wednesday she pondered the idea of coming up with an illness suitable enough to excuse herself, but left Ron to attend if he still wished. After no luck with that thought, her end of week ideas ranged from faking moods, attempting working overtime and lastly downright not attending.

Giving up and coming to the conclusion she would just have to make it through the dinner herself, her mood slunk and she became quiet and withdrawn. Even the usual welcome distraction of her work at the Ministry was not enough to repress her anxiety over Friday night's dinner.

Ever the overachiever, after the war Hermione properly completed her schooling. Of course she passed her N.E.W.T's with O's in all subjects. With that, not to mention the added bonus of being a glorified war hero, she of course received a direct offer from the Ministry. The offer meant that she could choose any career path she so desired, and basically had her first pick of the lot. It narrowed down after careful consideration to the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures.

Her work at the Ministry was not only something she was passionate about, and thrived on. But as of recent times it proved to be something of a mental crutch and emotional blocker for her… And yes, exactly like muggle cooking.

Alas, now the clock turned to five in the afternoon, of _the_ Friday. Hermione simply sat there at her modest desk, quill held loosely in hand, staring into oblivion.

Her continuing work on rewriting and defining the laws for interspecies relationships amongst magical creatures, was becoming tedious and quite irrelevant to her once obeying mind.

The present odour of dust ridden shelves permeated the atmosphere of the room. The familiarity of it soothed her mildly. Hermione mused there would never be anything as tranquil to her state of mind, than that of ink and parchment and book bindings.

A chiming coming from her right office wall pulled her from her thoughts, and she glanced sideways as the clock finally signalled the end of her working day.

 _Two hours left. Shit what happened to all this time I had to prepare myself._

As her head slumped down on her fist, her elbow began sliding ever so gradually across the dark mahogany of her desk. She willed herself to get up, but as the twitch began in her leg muscles to move, Kingsley's head appeared in the small gap of her office door.

"Ah, Minister," Hermione picked her head up and readjusted in her seat. "Come in it's fine. What can I do for you" Kingsley pushed through the doorway, shutting it behind him as he begun pacing towards the witch's desk.

"Hermione, I hate to bother you so late in the afternoon at the end of the week. But it's a matter I can't possibly delay." Kingsley paused purposefully and brought himself to a stop a few feet away from her desk.

The young witch stared up at her boss meaningfully. She knew all too well having to break bad news, or having to dish out hard work.

"Minister, we've fought battles together. You should be sure in the knowledge that you can present me with just about any problem, and find a way to work through it."

Kingsley smirked for just a second, before his eyes glanced down hesitantly then back up to meet his colleague's serious gaze.

"That's the problem I'm afraid, this time you won't be able to." The young witch tilted her head in question, before he continued. "I know how dedicated you are to your work in reviewing and rewriting these laws. And I understand you've dedicated your career thus far to it. But you must realise you work almost around the clock. You've hardly even had a Christmas off."

Hermione's face dropped. She could see where this is going. And she was rather hoping it wouldn't happen. Least of all at this point in time.

 _Of course he'd be doing this now._

Before she could finish opening her mouth to make an argument, he chimed in. "Hermione, you need to take a break. No arguments."

"But Minister, I've only jus-"

"Miss Granger, I'm afraid I have to make you." Kingsley raises a wide hand calmly, in an attempt to stop any further retaliations "You're taking two weeks leave from next Monday." Hermione exhaled loudly and deflated, knowing the formal use of her last name and title meant she could not win.

 _Perfect_.

After flooing quickly home, the brunette began getting ready in a fluster of speed, with equal amounts of worry and self- consciousness. Once barely satisfied with her appearance she sat herself at her vanity mirror, staring at her reflection, and tried to psyche herself into a frame of mind that would allow her total control over her emotions.

Not that it mattered anyway, no amount of time, preparation or reigning in of feelings could ever be enough.

She'd been so desperate to have any scrap of interaction with the redhead that alluded her, she had totally disregarded the fact that it would mean masquerading her emotions. She would ultimately be stuck with her thoughts in a very tension filled dinner party.

"Hey love, it's almost time. You ready yet?" Ron called from the end of the hallway. Hermione exhaled deeply, her heart beginning to thud wildly in her chest. She shut her eyes, and gathered herself before she had to face the world.

The next few minutes turned into a haze she would soon come to forget. A blur of autopilot functions and apparition before the sound of Harry's voice at the front door of Grimmauld Place snapped her awake.

"Hey, you guys! Come in, come in." Harry welcomed them both with a cheesy grin and an open arm, which he used to pull Ron into their usual pat on the back embrace. Hermione stepped through the threshold behind Ron, and followed Ron's gesture, wrapping her arms around her scruffy friend's torso. Ron was the first to mention his appearance.

"Blimey mate, I think you could use a hair cut," he gestured at Harry's hair quickly. Hermione had to admit, he did seem a little dishevelled. It wasn't just his usual unruly hair affecting his features, but now closer to the man she noticed his eyes puffy and irritated. She also noted, as he made the sound again, he had to clear his throat indignantly each time he began to speak.

"Obviously been too long then," he smiled weakly, shuffling uneasily towards the door to close it behind his guests. "Ginny's just uh, ya know, finishing getting all girled up. Won't be too long I guess." Harry rubbed his arm awkwardly, as if he didn't know what else to do, when things suddenly made sense to the brunette. _They've been fighting._

Her heart dropped when the realisation hit her. A disturbing urge to seek out the other woman and comfort her, protect her, was overwhelming and pulled at her to move. Had she not been practiced in restraining her feelings that is.

There was only a tiny pause of awkwardness from Harry before he seemed to collect himself. "But come on in, I'll start pouring some drinks ey?" Harry said perking up, leading them through the now bright corridor and into the familiar surrounding of the combined kitchen and dining.

Once the trio had settled at the table, strong drinks in hand and mouth watering food to pick at, conversation began to flow easily between old friends. At this point, the worried witch couldn't help but steal momentary glances towards the kitchen doorway, in a way she was sure went unnoticed by the boys. _Woman, stop stressing yourself out._

"Isn't that right dear, it all settles down eventually. We basically agree on everything now." Ron was grinning broadly at her, and snaked his arm around her shoulder. She replied confidently, almost scowling in his direction

"So we 'agree on everything now' do we? Is that what you're calling it?" As she raised a firm eyebrow at the man, his face paled instantly.

"Well I didn't mean it like that. I jus-"

"Then how exactly did you mean it Ronald?" She could feel her temper brewing. Stirring. Impossible ideas about the choices she'd made and their emotions, ones that she desperately needed to restrain, raised with her anger.

"I just meant that we both agree on things now, that's all."

 _Agree?! Its biting my tongue to save argument that we can_ _ **agree**_ _on!_

To save face, and herself, she stilled.

"While I know we agree on many things, Ron," she forced herself not to use his full name, "don't just think we automatically have nothing to differ on."

"I know that, I'm just trying to ease Harry's mind."

Harry bristled uncomfortably, feeling a change of attitude suddenly he spoke up.

"Look, don't even worry about it."

The brunette could suddenly feel the all too captivating change of energy overwhelm her senses. She'd notice _her_ presence in a room anytime, anywhere and well always. As the heavenly voice struck her auditory senses, she struggled to keep her appearance in check.

"Oh no, please, do go on. Don't let my presence stop you now that you guys are this far into the conversation." Arms folded. Face raised in sarcasm. Red hair falling carelessly about her shoulders. Leaning against the doorway nonchalantly.

Hermione turned herself around, rather carefully and slowly, towards the doorway to meet the other woman's eyes. But before she could meet the others gaze, the image of Ginny standing there just as she was, stole Hermione's breath all too swiftly.

 _Fuck. She's still so fucking gorgeous._

Quickly feigning a deep sigh to recover from the brief rush of air being inhaled into her lungs, she greeted the woman standing before her.

"Ginny... hey." Her eyes were caught, entranced by the sudden eye contact from the other.

Perhaps it sounds silly, but looking into those hypnotizing brown eyes of Ginny's, Hermione felt the world stop. She felt like she was home. Warm. Safe. More content than she would ever be ordinarily.

But yet even sillier she felt the same sensations, like a sixth sense, being returned from the beautiful redhead's stare. It drenched her in an overwhelming sensation of belonging. To know she was needed so urgently in that moment, purely harmonious and completely reciprocated. And it was almost too much to bear.

And then just like that, the moment was gone from existence.

The quick interaction seemed to go unnoticed by the boys in the room, who simply stared at her dumbly. Ginny rolled her eyes subtly towards the two men, who both muttered small hello's. She took up her awaiting glass of wine and took a seat heavily.

"Look let's just move on, okay?" she insisted, taking a sip from her glass. "Mmh. Ron, how's that case going?"

The initial tension the two women first felt slipped away into we'll practised self restraint. Ginny barely even acknowledged Hermione after that, and as such the latter felt the need to pull herself away in spirit from the evening altogether. She knew however that duty to her partner and friends had to be served, and so she forced conversation. She opted for topics of trivial things, in the hopes she may just find some common ground with the youngest Weasley, but found she failed.

Long into the night the conversation ran, back and forth between the four friends. They each ate their fill contently, updating each other on the current status of their lives. Reminiscing on easier times and regaling such stories to each other for the umpteenth time. Drinking too much for their wits to handle.

The younger witch's entire lack of any interaction became all too much for the elder witch. She tried repetitively to ignore the creeping sensation of rejection swelling from her spirit. Alas she concluded, as her emotions ran the edges of her well placed boundaries, she needed reprieve. To bask in complacency, and refresh her mind with thoughts and actions that would bring her calculated blessings of comfort.

 _Christ, I need to get out of here before she actually kills me._

Glancing at Ron as he roared with careless, blaringly drunk laughter, she found her way out as one word ran through her mind.

 _Predictable._

And just like that, with one goal in mind she made her move with her nails up his leg, waiting for his face to turn crimson.

"Well, this evening has been great guys. We ought to do it again," Hermione tried her best to sound genuine. But the exaggerated look from the woman sitting across from her told her she knew otherwise.

"Yeah sure, absolutely." The words from the redhead stung harshly. The only interaction she'd gotten directly from her destined, and they were oozing with resentment. Not obvious to the others, but she knew it was there.

Ron brightened promptly, a light bulb obviously going off in his brain.

"Next week!" he swivelled, to his girlfriend. "Next week you're off entirely, even after that. You should spend a day with Ginny while she's off training too."

The other redhead in the room seemed to reflect Hermione's feelings, as she spoke up rather defensively for the better of the both of them.

"Ron you can't plan Hermione's time off for her. She's not a child, she can think for herself." The brunette never looked at the fierce woman, but thanked her internally nonetheless.

The older woman spoke up for herself then.

"Yes, what if I had plans already?" Ron shot back like he knew he needed to justify himself further.

"Well do you?"

"That's not the point."

"So you don't?"

"No Ron. I do not."

Harry chose this point to input. He could see the couple beginning to pick at an inevitable argument.

"Hermione, it's not like you're being forced to deal with a death eater."

She scoffed silently.

"Obviously we're not forcing you, just saying it's not a bad idea. You guys can catch up, chill out. Just, enjoy a girls day y'know." Reasoning wasn't giving her an exit. Not that the two men could relate to "girl time". But her mind in its state, meticulously calculating suitable reasons, could not produce a rebuttal for the situation. She was, how do you say? Well.

Screwed. She was screwed.

The idea ebbed at Hermione's fears. As if life couldn't get any more twisted in its plotline. Like the cruel joke it was, to some higher power, clearly wasn't enough for entertainment anymore. Unable to find her voice, the other woman broke her silence for the both of them.

"Right well then, looks like we've got some catching up to do next week 'Mione."

The two women then each dared a look at each other. Ginny, shooting a raised, educated glance at the other. Hermione, seeing the other's jaw slacken wickedly, was once again caught in those gorgeously deep eyes. Frozen, and in fear of her vocal chords giving herself away, she ghosted a smile and a convincing quick nod. The other pair in the room seemed satisfied at this, regardless of Hermione's remaining goose bumps, which had presented themselves at the last uttered word from the redhead.

She needed to get out of there. Finally, giving brash goodbyes to the couple, almost crumbling when social niceties meant she had to hug her tormentor goodbye, the pair left from the Potter's residence. Tipsy and almost entirely exhausted they flooed back to the safety of their home.

Hermione needed reassurance after that night. After seeing the woman who collided so incessantly with every thought, feeling and instinct she contained, she felt her soul ache with a new ferocity. Her one solution required urgency, as she dragged an exited partner to the bedroom, earning a joyfully expectant look from him.

"Really, you nicked off from dinner for _this_?" The redhead could only drop his jaw and allow himself to be jerked inside the room with a low, agreeable hum from the witch. "Merlin, I need to let you drink more often!"

And so she lost herself with only one goal in mind. One intention. She lost herself so utterly in the familiarity of a stubbled cheek upon her face. Of hard, lean muscles under her touch. Of strong arms that lifted her, adjusting her as she so commanded. Of rough thrusts from angled hips. Of all the sensations she had craved and now received in great relief.

As she reached the peak of realise, wracked by sweet euphoria, her thoughts diminished and disappeared to all relevance in the moment. Her never-ending mental barrage ceasing in utter tranquillity, as she finally made an attempt at sleep. The very last thing her memory seemed insistent on was morphing the vibrant red hair clutched in her grasp, into that of another's.


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: Hey guys. Lucky you folks, I had a long weekend and managed to get a half a day of writing in yay! Like I said before, I should be able to write more often. Maybe not so close as this chapter and the last. But still.**

 **This chapter deals with the girls a bit more one on one. You can maybe get an idea of how they interact atm. I know there was mentions or queries (and by that I mean one, but I'm trying to feel self important here hey) of what happened between the girls in the past. And I do/have planned to get around to it in the next chapter regardless. Maybe not like an entire flashback scene, but enough to hopefully give some better insight into the dynamics and reasoning of their relationship.**

 **I do appreciate all the feedback I get. All the follows, favs and reviews...However little it may be. So really, thank you for reading the shit that comes out of my head.**

 **On with it.**

* * *

Coffee.

The addictive aroma wafted through the kitchen, easing her unserious thoughts of homicide this early in the morning, as Hermione slid into a dining chair and poured herself a cup of the delicious liquid. Inhaling deeply, she treasured the cup's warmth and took her first gulp of the morning. Two things the studious brunette would never be able go without in a day: A cup of this gloriously intoxicating dose of caffeine, and thoughts pertaining to a certain redheaded woman.

The other redhead in her life promptly appeared, dressed and clearly on the brink of leaving for work. Much to Hermione's delight, for serenity surely followed. He smiled at her, changing his direction slightly to greet her with a kiss on the forehead while she woke up

"Morning love. Thought you would have slept in again." Ron hesitantly grabbed his cloak as it hung over his seat at the table. It happened to be Wednesday, and the day Hermione and Ginny had come to agree on to 'catch up and all that other girly stuff'. And of course, she couldn't have slept in even if she tried.  
"Just wanted to make sure I was up and ready in case Ginny wants to head out early." _Blatant lie Granger._

Truth be told, she couldn't sleep because of the sheer amount of worry that plagued her. Unsure and paranoid about how things would turn out between her and the illusive witch, she barely got more than a few hours of solid sleep time. Hence, the necessity of caffeine.

"Well, I've gotta' head off for work," Ron finished pulling on his dark trench coat and glancing at his watch meaningfully. _He's trying to look so utterly important. Eying his watch and puffing his chest like that._ "Duty calls and all eh. Have a good time with Gin then honey." After a final goodbye kiss to his fiancée, he stepped to their fire placed and flooed away, calling his destination to "The Ministry of Magic".

The Gryffindor, now left in her solitude, pondered without serious intent her partners use of the floo network. He'd never been the best with apparating regardless. Being splinched on one of his first experiences, then there was the motion sickness that presented itself all too forwardly. Being brought up in a magical home that had a floo network available anyway, he's always preferred flooing to apparating. This was very unlike Hermione, and totally foreseen in the habits of his behaviour.

She got up after finishing her coffee, not even realising she had done so. And she'd certainly not stomach breakfast on a day like today. One where she would be once again brought into and then through a shamble of emotions. So instead she treaded into her bedroom, and got dressed as well as she could, letting her mind ponder again in distraction.

No, Hermione much preferred the benefits of apparition. Ever since she was able to take her test, the advantages of it were obvious. Direct, quick and simple. No nonsense. No trouble if you need to bring along multiple travellers and it just made sense. Why would you want to bother with going somewhere, then finding another way to get closer to your ultimate destination. When you could literally just pop right there. Illogical.

An unwelcome noise quickly tore her from her thoughts, the sudden and recognisable sound of apparition arriving in her living room. For them to get through her wards so easily, without her even feeling someone trying to make entry they'd have to be keyed in at least. Wide eyed, and only slightly panicked at the noise intruding on her ears, she called out firmly towards the open door that led out into the hallway.

"Hello?" She questioned, moving steadily to take a cautious step towards the doorway. She immediately got her reply, and confirmation of her dreaded suspicions.

"It's just me 'Mione. No need to come running," Hermione couldn't help but shut her eyes and clench her fists at the sound of the dripping sarcasm in the other's voice. _What the hell is Ginny doing here this early?  
_ The bookworm quickly gathered herself, checking her appearance in the mirror to make sure she looked presentable. And also, she told herself, completely not at all to make sure she had chosen a good outfit and her hair looked tamed for once.

She found Ginny perusing the small collection of photo frames that adorned the fireplace, and Hermione could see the smirk on her face from side on. Trying to gauge Ginny's mood, Hermione spoke neutrally.  
"And what brings you here? I thought we were going to 'meet out and about'?" The quidditch star put down the moving photo of the four friends in younger, easy days and swivelled her body to face the other witch.  
"I came here to tell you, well I thought it would have been obvious," Hermione could see the other woman hold back an eyeroll. "That I'll be in the Leaky Cauldron should you happen to need anything or if anyone comes looking." She finished with a tone of finality, crossing her arms in a gesture that reflected as much.

Hermione, for one of the few times in her life, was a little confused. She quirked an eyebrow at the other, as the redhead took another small step away from the mantle place. "You didn't _actually_ expect us to spend the whole day together, did you? Honestly?" It was the youngers turn to quirk an eyebrow.  
"Of course I didn't Ginny," the elder huffed before continuing. "I was under the impression we would meet up like we were supposed to, part ways for the day, and re-join only if we needed for appearances sake." Swapping gestures again, Hermione folded her arms as casually as she could.

"Yes well, I thought I'd save us both the trouble." Ginny seemed to collect her thoughts for a moment. As if in her moment of pause she had almost lost her exterior composure. "Thought it would make more sense if I was able to spend the day how I had originally planned. And not have to be disturbed with the need to, how did you say it, keep up appearances?" The younger witch sounded genuinely curious at the end question. The brunette knew it was all a well devised ploy to throw her off track. All in an attempt to emphasise the older witch's paranoia and need for total discrepancy regarding the whole thing.

"I said 'for appearances sake', but close enough" the beaming look on the redhead's face dropped slightly.  
"Yes that. However you put it I had intended on spending the day in the pub." She sighed pointedly before continuing with much more irritation in her voice. "The plan was if someone should happen to come across me, it wouldn't be so hard to explain we'd finished our get together. What with Diagon Alley being right next door and all. I only came here to save myself the time and effort of meeting you out to begin with."

Hermione's brain clicked, toggling into that all so glorious sanctuary of intellect and reasoning that she held in her mind. Putting very obvious puzzle pieces together, and she knew instantly she held the upper hand now.

The bookworm tilted her head quizzically, looking to the clock on the mantle pointedly.  
"To save yourself time?" She threw a pointing hand casually in the direction of said clock, drawing the younger witch's attention to it, before folding her arms again. "And how much time do you think you've saved then, turning up here unannounced with your half assed reasoning? Hmm?"  
The other witch spun back and very nearly gawked at the sudden change in the brunette. She saved herself though, and retorted.  
"Sure, in hindsight, I could have just stuck to our original plan. It would have worked out the same." Hermione took this pause in conversation to make her move. She wished she could take this moment in time to savour the look on Ginny's face, as she was about to be blessed with a look of pure astonishment. And if she was lucky, a purely unguarded reaction from her soulmate.

"You wanted to see me." The redhead froze, expression poised, stuck with her mouth slightly agape. The epitome of astonishment. "You wanted to see me and this was the best way you could figure how, without having to give anything away right?" Hermione's voice followed calmly, and she spoke as softly and genuinely as she could. The redhead still stood there, dumbfounded for a moment, until she kicked into gear, biting back as defensively as she could.

"Hermione, if I _really_ wanted to see you then I simply wo-"

"You could have owled." The incoming rebuttals were throwing Ginny's excuses off. She cursed herself for not being more quick thinking, and instead came up with a rather dumb sounding comeback.  
"What are you talking about?"  
"You could have simply written this all down in a letter, owled it over, and then went about your day as planned." Ginny looked slightly alarmed at this point.

"But instead you chose to apparate into my living room." Hermione took a purpose filled step forward, the younger's eyes following the tread of her foot. Merlin knows where she's getting this sudden burst of bravado from. _Gryffindor indeed._

"At a quarter past nine in the morning," another step was trailed by Ginny's eyes. Hermione however didn't dare look away from the expression written on the younger Gryffindor's face. She was thoroughly enjoying this all too much.

"Narrowly missing Ron leaving for work by the way." After yet another step, the witches were now only a few feet apart. The redhead couldn't bare it any longer and shifted her gaze to look up into those hypnotising, warm chestnut eyes. The brunette exhaled loudly, staring back into strong amber eyes, before continuing gently. "And at the same time you would have been waiting for Harry to leave." Hermione could sense this was it. She could feel the other's resolve crumbling. Her day-to-day mask wearing thin at truth pushed so elegantly in front of her. "I know you had it planned."

Her last step taken, now standing at arm's length, the pair could do nothing else for a moment but stare at each other. Feeling that engulfing sensation of belonging take over, and in a moment so unlike anything Ginny Weasley would ever dare do, she finally let down her defences.

"I've missed you." It was silent. Barely a whisper and matched oh so perfectly the look on her love's face. The brunette wouldn't have even heard it if she were standing even a half step further away than what she was. But she heard it, so loud and clear. So clear it drowned out all thought of logic and sensibility that had ever possessed her. So clear that she didn't even feel herself lose control of her own motor functions. She could only sit back and watch from inside, while the rest of her body seemed to act of it's own accord.

"I've missed you too," trying to read further into the expression on the others features, eyes darting around hopefully, she lost herself further. "Merlin Gin', I still miss you."

And that was all it took for Ginny Weasley to convince herself she would be alright, and come out completely unscathed from kissing one Hermione Granger. The moment Ginny leant forward, Hermione thought she would wake up. She craved the feel of Ginny's lips on her own, and when she received them she was completely and utterly overwhelmed with satisfaction. With complete bliss, and that all too familiar sense of belonging they shared in their glances.

Ginny's lips were gloriously wonderful. Just as gentle and deliciously soft as she had remembered. She didn't want the sensation to end, feeling their soothing warmth move against her own. Her hands moved themselves carefully to hold the redheads face tenderly. They broke apart briefly, needing air for just a moment. Ginny looked like she was about to say something, but refusing the moment to end Hermione dove straight back to the feel of lips that belonged to her. She deepened the kiss desperately, seeking entrance with her tongue. When she received it and felt the others seeking her out in return, the eldest witch couldn't help but let out a low and satisfied sound. She moved her fingers through long locks of wonderfully silken hair. And she really, truly thought she would have awoken by now.

Gods how she missed this. She longed terribly to stay in this space of time. Nothing changing. Just replaying the same one minute cycle over and over again for the rest of her days. This piece of serenity the only thing she would have to remember.

What she didn't long for, was a distinctly unique clock chiming heard behind the both of them. As the younger woman pulled away from the kiss abruptly, her eyes landed on a replica Weasley Clock standing against a wall in her line of sight. The hand of "Ronald" quivered the tiniest bit as it finished landing in its occasional place of Mortal Peril.

This brought the redhead harshly into a daze, dumbstruck and staring at the old grandfather style clock. The elder witch could see the cogs turning and knew what would happen if she didn't act.  
"Gin', don't. Don't, just look at me." Regardless of the longing plea in her voice, the other simply couldn't. Ginny tugged herself out of her arms, tears threatening to begin spilling themselves from her eyes.  
"I…I can't…I don't…Hermione, I'm sorry." And with one last look into the brunette's now desperate and fearful eyes, she turned on the spot and disappeared completely from her one and only. Leaving the bookworm alone and frightened for what was held for their future, not unlike she had been at a previous point in time. She tried terribly hard to not cave in on herself, already missing her other half's presence in an excruciatingly unbearable amount.

 _Well, didn't see that coming_. She sniggered internally _. Still hurts the same too._


	4. Chapter 4

**AN:So this chapter is a bit more dialogue heavy. And usually I try to keep a good mix of dialogue and story detail but this chapter was hard to churn out for me.**

 **This has a lot of focus on the girls. But I mean hey who's complaining. The next few chapters might not be as much. We'll see.**

 **Anyway on with it.**

* * *

Hermione was about to wear a permanent foot trail in the carpeted floor of the living room. She'd been pacing laps around the coffee table and across the front of the fire place, never once sitting since Ron had left for work. When he left, he reassured the tense witch again that he was fine, and that despite his own Weasley Clock hand signifying otherwise the day before, he would always be so. For her sake at the least.

But that was before 9am this morning. It was now 2 o'clock in the afternoon and the woman was seriously running out of time to take action. _Why the hell is it that time disappears so easily whenever it comes to_ her _._

The frustrated woman was battling herself internally. She was trying to wrap her head around the fact that the day prior actually happened. And it wasn't just a dream. And she really did kiss Ginny. And yes, she enjoyed it too extensively to simply let the situation be anymore. She was too far in to just let it go, too far deep to just _deal with it_ any longer.

But then there was Ron. Sweet, innocent and blissfully ignorant Ron.

And so, she found herself having arguments in her head that only ran circles around all sense and reason. Not that this was a common occurrence in her life.

Finding out she belonged to the magical community. Taking solace in pages of books rather than people. Inexplicably becoming friends with the famous Boy Who Lived. Then consequently this dunder she spent each day with. The trio of them single-handedly destroying The Dark Lord's soul and fighting in an all-out Wizarding Battle, all while she was still in her teens.  
So many things in her life had never even seen reason or sense. _So why stop now._

With that last ounce of bravado in thought, and a glance at Ron's clock hand poised on work, she disappeared from the spot.

The brainy witch appeared almost instantly in the dimmed light of Harry's inherited residence. The faint smell of dank mildew, a permanent fixture in the narrow space in which she stood. She froze in the hallway, alert and listening for even the tiniest evidence of occupancy. A few heartbeat thrums later she was met with her answer, a soft clanking sound reaching her ears from the far back sitting room. She dared to tread in the direction, choosing not to call out yet, in fear of frightening away the other in her midst. It had to be Ginny.

As she approached further in, standing in the kitchen at the threshold leading to the back room, her heart gave an abrupt halt and made its way momentarily into her throat. She could feel it clogging her airways, forcing her to swallow strenuously as she spied the tell-tale shade of auburn hair. Peering through the dinginess of the rumpus room, she turned herself towards the source of the noise. Ginny was busying herself with rummaging through the bottom cupboards of a well aged hutch. The approaching witch hinged her mouth open and shut, with no sound ever leaving her. She felt idiotic with her mouth hanging agape. She had planned a spiel in her mind, but didn't anticipate a situation where she would have to do the approaching. _To heck with it. Just get on with it and say what you need to say already._

"Gin, we need to talk." The other in the room snapped to attention as she withdrew her head from inside the cupboard's hollow. She scoffed and glared harshly before breaking eye contact and resumed her rummaging, lowering her head back inside. The brunette sighed. She knew it was going to take much more. "Look, you know we do. We can't go on like this any more."

"Can't go on like what, huh?" The words from Ginny came out muffled from inside the furniture, and with a venom she didn't recognise. "And since when has there ever been a 'we' to go on anyway. Hermione there is no we." The unexpected words cut right through Hermione, but she steadied herself to go on.

"Ginny, you have every right to be upset at me, I know that. But I can't... I can't for the love of Merlin go on any longer like this," the witch pleaded, desperation edging her tone. The shuffling noises from within the cupboard stilled, along with the redhead's movements, and she pulled herself from the space. She gave the woman standing away from her a long and thoughtful stare, before she lifted herself from the ground. Dusting her knees off as she walked past the older witch into the kitchen, she didn't dare breathe a word until she had made it out of direct sight from the other.

"I'll put the kettle on. Tea?" she questioned, to which the older Gryffindor nodded lamely.

"Yes." Then feeling like a child about to be scalded she added "please." The elder shuffled herself around the table to clutch at the back of a chair, and leant as much weight as she safely could on it. It was probably the only support she'd get all week.

The pair remained in silence until they were both seated with tea poured and mugs in hand. Neither of them had dared breach the topic of their history in years. Not since it all went train-derailed-off-the-tracks kind of wrong. Hermione gathered her composure, and strengthened her resolve to speak again, but she was beaten to it.

"Look I know yesterday can't happen again," the young Weasley broke the silence first. "And you've got nothing to worry about me telling him. I won't be the one to break my brother's heart," she spoke meaningfully. Hermione paused, shutting her eyes in a moment of thought.

"I didn't come here to talk about yesterday." Ginny quirked a slim eyebrow. "Well I did and I didn't. I _am_ here because of what happened yesterday." A small pause followed as Hermione picked at her mug handle nervously. "And I'm here more so because of what yesterday brought up." That familiar, almost an eye roll look flashed over the other witch's features. "Feelings, I mean. Feelings I thought I could handle-"

"Hermione don't even start with me about your damn feelings!" The hot-tempered woman burst out across the middle of Hermione's speech. And probably well rehearsed at that, but she had no argument to return. She could only stare affronted at the woman before she spoke again maliciously. "Don't even think about coming to me with your 'feelings'. Especially not for your self satisfaction. Just so you can feel all high and mighty about yourself, as if you could take back all the bullshit you pulled me through. Don't you even dare!" The redhead's voice had lowered to an almost growl at this point. But the older witch felt better, relieved almost. Because the lash out from the other gave a steady indication of her usual Weasley temper. And that was something that she could handle, unlike her mistake.

Because all those years ago, in a moment that was so unlike the careful calculations her brain would normally make, Hermione had indeed made the biggest blunder of her lifetime. She hurt the woman she loved more than anything or anyone, and broke her trust. The bookish woman didn't even know if her words would mean anything, but she just _had_ to try.

"Ginny stop it, would you just stop it and look at me." The redhead seethed, and visibly reigned any further comments back into thought. The older Gryffindor waited a moment longer to give the woman some time. "Gin. Please." Knowing the usual signs and steps of a typical Weasley temper flare, she waited till the younger finally took a deep breath in. Her face unreadable.  
"I haven't come here to gloat. Or rub feelings in your face. Or make you feel terrible, not even in the least." The bushy haired woman had to take another pause, focusing on clenching her mug and looking the other face on. This was finally it.

"I know it's taboo for us to speak of, and after this you have my word I'll never bring it up again. But I need you to know that I'm still so terribly, deeply sorry for hurting you." The bookworm had the strongest sense that her voice was raising ever so slightly in pitch, and she kept telling herself it definitely wasn't because she was getting emotional at the words "I know to you it might sound overdramatic, or like I'm putting a facade on. But I'm being completely honest when I say that I regret it more than anything I've ever done in my entire life. And there isn't a day that goes by that I don't think about how messed up it is or how I wish I could take it all back."

The older witch still struggled to keep her tone even and could feel the tell tale signs of tears threatening to break free. Ginny seemed to take on an expression of sternness one would expect from the Weasley Matriarch, and the other anticipated the worst kind of lecture from the redhead.

"Hermione, I'm all about moving on and forward. But what happened hurt me. It took me a long time to get over it. I mean a really long time, and truth be told I still feel like I need space from you." The words were no where near as harsh as what the brunette was expecting. _Still cuts though_.

The tension in the air seemed to dissipate minimally and Hermione took the opportunity to take a long sip of aromatic tea, the taste of the liquid soothing her emotions. She noticed the quidditch player do the same and a few more peacefully silent moments passed between them. The initial awkwardness seemed to fizzle out and Ginny picked up where she left off.

"Stupidly enough", she scoffed and shook her head at herself, "you're also the last person I actually need space from." Hermione straightened instantly, her face shot into a quizzical look. "I know what happened back then was messed up. And getting myself involved with people in our N.E.W.T year wasn't the greatest move, but that doesn't mean getting involved with you wasn't."

You see, the final year at Hogwarts was somewhat of an exploration in mind, body and spirit for the pair. The two girls had finally, after countless months of hardship had a sense of freedom and utter independence unlike any other before. Both preferring to stay single while Harry and Ron trained dutifully as Aurors, they found themselves lost in an existence with only each other as anchors to the world. So, they dated. And at the same time, they also didn't date. They simply partook in whatever or whomever they may so have fancied.

Though not as sexually ravenous at that stage, for Hermione it was her chance to enjoy some semblance of ordinary youth. To continue on in her own subtly rebellious ways. On the other hand, for Ginny it was a chance to prove to herself she could handle any level of intimacy. She so unknowingly needed to lose and discover herself in that time. More than she even still cared to admit. For both of them, it was a chance to fall in love. More so than that, it was a chance for them both to discover just how completely and perfectly their souls fit with one another.

"Ginny, before you go any further I never expected you to commit to me. I know that's not what you were about then, and I completely understood that." The redhead stared back with a pensive look on her face. "I never wanted to stand in your way when it came to finding yourself. It's different for everyone, and Merlin knows you were just trying to find some life after all that death." The younger Gryffindor took the pause to interrupt.

"Mione," The brunette stopped what was a well thought out rationale. The pair locked eyes firmly before Ginny continued, "I don't care about my idiotic myriad of open relationships. _If_ you could even call them that." Hermione did grin a fraction at this. Not that she would admit to it. "Hell, I don't even care about how horribly I ended things with Dean after all that. But after you spent the night with him." The bushy haired lioness, now not so brave, averted her eyes down into her lap. "That was the very first time I was ever actually jealous about someone." The now timid witch continued picking at her nails, too scared to face the woman she hurt unforgivably. The youngest Weasley had said jealousy reared its ugly head when they first went through the ordeal. But the bookworm sure didn't expect the next few words as they rolled off of the redhead's tongue easily, almost ironically even.

"You know it was _him_ I was jealous of." The younger witch lost her gaze in the timber pattern that ran through the table. "Not you, I was never jealous of you. Even afterwards between us, it always lingered"

The brunette let what Ginny had said sink in. _Jealous of him, so she wanted to be with. Me. With me?_ Her mind catching up, lagging slightly after all of the emotional distress, she finally understood what it actually meant and searched the others gaze. When the other refused to meet her gaze, she threw caution to the wind and broke the delicate silence.

"It was always you Gin." The redhead kept her sight on the table, but the bookish Gryffindor never wavered in hesitation as she rose from her seat at the table and made her way to kneel at the others side. The elder reached for and clutched the faintly tanned hands firmly within her own. "For all the logic and sagaciousness that I possess, I cannot understand why I feel like I belong with you." The younger witch chanced a glance to the bookworm and they stared at one another. The brunette's stare was intense and meaningful, but Ginny dared not look away. "I can't even begin to describe it. It's like, I've been through this before with you. As if we've spent a thousand lifetimes chasing each other in this same ridiculous routine." Hermione fought the clenching in her throat desperately, as she could see the other's lip begin to quiver just the slightest. She knew that this was the point of no return for her. The ultimate crossroads for her life thus far, and she hoped desperately she wouldn't regret it. She had lived long enough with the regret of what she had done, and she took this moment to vow to herself she would never do the same again. "I know I can't explain it any better than this, that all my tact goes out the window when it comes to you. But I know, as much as you do and you hate to admit, that there will never be anyone else for either of us. That our beings, our magic and gods even our souls belong to each other. I knew it from the moment I saw you standing there at Kings Cross and I'll know it until I give my last breath."

Hermione didn't even remember when she started crying, but all she could cared to notice was wiping away her love's tears. As she reached her thumb up to wipe across a freckled cheek she felt the woman above her sigh and lean into the touch. She couldn't help but smile almost bitterly.

"'Mione," the other begun to sniffle out. "I'm so far in with Harry, I can't. I can't even begin to think of how that would happen." The bushy haired woman's smile dropped. _Here comes the utter rejection and heartbreak._ "But I'm not saying that these feelings are one sided 'Mione, I know that look." _Fuck's sake could she be any more of a soulmate._ "But this thing we have," she gestured quickly between them, "it's magnetic, there's no _nox_ for this. We can't, I wouldn't even know where to go from."

The older Gryffindor knew though, even with her mind jaded with love and the sensation of the younger woman's soft face under her touch, that with life the way it was they could never be together. That to save each other from the pain they would bring to their current partners, and themselves even, they would have to go back to distancing themselves from each other.

"I get it Gin, I know. I wouldn't expect splitting up with the boys, for either of us." Hermione reluctantly pulled her hands away and stood up. They both mourned the loss of contact instantly, knowing it was necessary. "Look, I don't expect a lot, I just want us to be civil to each other again. Even if we can't be close." The brunette subtly swiped at her own face, and brushed off the dust from her jeans.

"Really that's it? Is that what you really want?" The redhead suddenly felt the audacity to challenge their situation, and the bookworm took a spare moment to visibly collect her composure.

"Don't ask me that Ginny." The pair shared one last look before the unmistaken sound of apparition sounding in the property's musky hallway broke their tranquillity. Both sets of eyes shot to the doorway leading there, and the sound of heavy footsteps broke their silent stupor.

"Hey love, are you home?" Harry's voice carried through the hall, and the women shared a quick look with each other. Both knowing what each was asking; if they should be worried of him seeing them in their current state. Hermione was quicker for the both of them, nodding her head slightly and flicking her wand to revert their facial appearance to what it was before this whole mess got so emotional.

"Ah! There's my two favourite girls!" The green eyed man appeared at the doorway almost surprisingly, and the redhead woman automatically set to fussing over his dishevelled appearance in a very maternal-Weasley kind of way.

"Look at the state of your robes! Not to mention your face. Do please try and take care of yourself sweetheart." Wand in hand, Ginny set to healing the small scratches on his face and then fixing up the small rips in the bottom of his cloak. Hermione couldn't help but give a final thought: what she wouldn't give to come home to a scolding that was underlined with love and care from Ginny just like that.

However, she had no more time to dwell on such things further, as she excused herself in order to go home and greet her own partner. The couple of course understood, as she cast a final discreet glance at the other woman, and felt it returned in a sense of closure. She took the opportunity of informality to simply nod her goodbyes, and vanished from the spot with an abrupt pop.

She arrived in her empty bedroom, barely containing the sound of a single sob as she dropped to the floor. Clawing at the carpet viciously, using all of her strength to control the sound of crying that threatened to escape her vocals. The pain she felt was too overwhelming to even keep on her feet. She felt so utterly incapacitated and hopelessly heart shattered.

"Babe, you home then?" The ginger haired man's voice echoed through her being, shocking her into awareness. She couldn't bare to think of what Ron would feel if he knew the truth, but she would not live with regret as she had just finished vowing to herself minutes ago.

At least, that's what she told herself as she dragged herself to her feet, casting another quick charm to hide her face and greeted her current lover with open arms and laboured affection.


	5. Chapter 5

**AN:  
** Sorry yes, I know it's taken 6000 years for an update. Now I'm one of **those** fanfic writers _._ And while I'm still not making any promises on update speed, I can say that the end half of last year was Carazaaaayyy. Especially in my work life... Let's be honest ONLY my work life.

I do hope you all had a great New Year and holiday period, whatever you celebrate... Even if you only celebrate no work like myself. HA, I'm hilarious.

Any mistakes let me know. I'm not entirely happy with this chapter, I feel like it's a bit choppy.

I still don't own Harry Potter. Or Emma Watson, dammit.

Thank you everyone that reviewed or followed or favourited, it is much appreciated so please feel free to do so again! :)  
I do want to start trying to replying to reviews though, so please harass me via text if I don't.

On with it now, enjoy.

* * *

After her last encounter with Ginny, Hermione's days turned into weeks. Weeks became months in a blurred, numb kind of haze. Before she knew it, she hadn't seen Ginny in almost 9 months. And she felt like she ought to have died from it. There was a stage where she thought she had accepted complacency and her emotions plateaued to a point she could finally come to terms with. A point at which she believed the dreadfully incessant normalcies of her life had steadied. A point she greatly miscalculated.

After returning to work from her leave she threw herself back into heavy workloads and intricate cases as much possible. Not that things were the busiest for the time of year after she came back from her leave (she thought quite triumphantly, _how else could Kingsley have afforded my absence_ ). But the distraction of having her brain occupied on a regular basis once again eased a part of her being. Even if the diversion was only for moments at a time, she'd of course spend unnoticed moments pining after a certain redhead.

While things in her work life were going steady, and reliably so, home life wasn't exactly a party. Affections from Ron seemed to make her feel more ill than usual, and as a result she found herself struggling not to jerk away at his touch. Some days it was bearable. Comfortable and familiar. Like a well-worn home jumper. Other days she locked her jaw in an effort to restrain herself from outburst. Feeling like she wanted to shove his hand away in frustration.

She found herself curled into the couch in the living room on a Thursday night, feet neatly tucked under herself. Of course, she was buried in a book while Ron hurried about snatching coins from various spots throughout the house. As he begun to jingle, crossing the hallway just behind Hermione, her attention was pulled up and away from her book. This evening was one of those times where Ron was testing her limits and she found herself biting back a sneer.

"Ron, why on earth do you need so much change?" She swiveled herself around to find the awkwardly positioned ginger frozen in place mid step into the lounge room. Like a kid caught with their hand in a cookie jar.

"Uh… I'm just getting some extra Galleons for tonight, that's all." Hermione's brain split into 3 thoughts. 1: why the hell was he still standing so ridiculously. 2: they each had enough Galleons in Gringotts to last them & future generations for lifetimes. And 3: when the hell did Ron start making plans without telling her?

"Could you not stand like that. Please," she added in an attempt to soften her tone. "You know we have more than enough money to live comfortably. You shouldn't feel like you need to ration money or scrape around for change." Although, she knew this habit wouldn't break, stemming from an upbringing of borderline poverty and hand me downs. She still gave him a minute to fix his posture, and chose to keep quiet about him going out. At this point, she wouldn't complain over a night to herself. Ron must've either not considered the fact Hermione might be upset about him leaving for the evening or had just forgotten altogether. Clearing his throat uneasily he started again.

"I know, but every but helps ey," he added spinning a coin in the air before scooping it out of the air in his grip mid spin. "Right then. I think I'm off love." The tower of a man leaned over the back of the couch in an obvious attempt to get a kiss goodbye. The bookworm seeing this coming had delved back into her book to avoid as much interaction as possible. With a hum of dismissal from Hermione and a disappointed kiss to the top of the brunette's head, the red head was gone from the spot with an abrupt crack. Relief washed over Hermione, and with a deep exhale she lowered her book down and made to stand up. She'd make a nice cup of tea. Just. _Relax for one night_.

Despite Hermione's best efforts, she honestly wasn't sure how much longer she could keep up her charade. She found herself constantly reigning in her expressions and appearance. Handing out polite niceties to her lover when she was actually struggling to not let her lip quiver in sorrow. Or forcing her vocal chords not to tear howling screams from her throat.

She hated this feeling of being torn in two. No, the tea would do some good for her nerves. Give her something to keep distracted, something to focus her senses on. She'd begun to crave solitude and serenity these past few months. Regardless of the fact that she seemed to be one of the most in demand people of her time, which if anything made her crave the quiet more.

And so, she savored her tea. She returned back to her corner of the couch, sipped the scalding liquid timidly and basked in the glorious feeling of being truly alone. She whittled away the hours reading, rationing her tea and many cups afterwards as if it were an elixir. Gathering herself for bed when her eyes grew weary and heavy, she rested truly well. And surprisingly alone.

She awoke the same way. But felt slightly anxious at that fact. _Great. Drunk, lost Ron is exactly what I need before work._ Logical process dictated she send off an owl to Harry to check on her missing person, which she scribbled out frantically and attached promptly to their owl, Hermes. Stiff nervousness gnawed away at Hermione. While she waited for the returning owl she made herself another cup of tea to pass the time. And yes, she was entirely aware that she probably drank too much tea. She's British. Shush, it's what they do.

Midway through her second cup of the morning, the swooping of wings about to land caught her attention, and she almost snatched the reply letter from her owl. Unfolding the note instantly, she exhaled the breath she didn't realise she was holding.

 _Hermione,_

 _Ron's here, safe and unharmed I promise. He got a bit sloshed last night, and I thought it best to take him home with me. Not that I was completely sober either. BUT I thought it'd be a better idea than letting him floo. Or god forbid, apparate._

 _Will look after him at work too, don't worry. (I know you)_

 _Love Harry.  
Ron mumbles his love too._

She didn't deserve them. Either of them. Harry, for taking care of Ron. For caring for their best friend and herself in times where she couldn't. Or simply wouldn't. Dependable and honourable. A true brother. She'd trust him forever, implicitly.

And Ron, her best friend. Her partner in life. He was far too doting and sweet. Too annoyingly careful and irrationally sensitive for what she preferred in a partner. However, she knew that she was extraordinarily lucky to have his love. Even if she truthfully didn't want it, she loved him back for all that he was worth.

* * *

She'd just finished dealing with a sensitive Centaur crisis before midday when she finally strolled into the Auror Department. After knocking at Ron's door, she didn't even bother waiting before she wandered in.

"Yeah. Come in." Came Ron's voice from behind his messy stack of parchment and hovering interdepartmental memos. Hermione cleared her throat politely, as if it were a question itself, and the Auror finally raised his head to meet the brunette's eyes. "Oh, 'Mione!" The ginger man leapt up immediately, almost disrupting the teetering pile of work in front of him. He looked tired and unkempt. No, he looked absolutely depleted and a complete mess. The man all but bounded around the table to pull Hermione into a kiss. Not even a little bit office appropriate. None. Zero. The kiss should have been flagged NSFW.

When they dettached Hermione couldn't help but release a disgruntled sigh. Which Ron of course mistook for tension and hummed happily in response. "Bloody hell, I've missed you." Realistically she could have happily gone for days alone, but she pulled out her automatic reply.

"I've missed you too." The redhead beamed at her while she paused. "What happened to you? Where did you go last night?" Ron had the decency to look sheepish.

"I dunno' how much Harry told you, but a few of us went a bit on ya' know. Well, later than we expected to anyway." The obvious bob of his Adam's Apple and proceeding gulp were enough of a sign to show there was perhaps more to it. She raised a delicate eyebrow, indicating to continue. "Some of the guys don't get to go out too often. It's not like they don't get allowed to or anything, they just don't get a chance to." She still sensed there was more to the story, but supposed it didn't matter.

"It's ok, I understand. You're allowed to socialize and go out when you want to. I certainly don't want to stop you," as she finished his eyes went from tentative to hopeful. Like he was thinking. _And that's never a good sign._

"I'm so lucky to have you." He clutched each of her hands in his own clammy grip. "And I'll never forget that. Or…or take it for granted. You've given me everything I could ever want, or need." There was a pause in his speech, like he needed one last moment to collect his thoughts. Another great swallow, and a final clearing of the throat later he loosened his grip and made a move to reach for something from the inside of his vest while his right knee began a slow bending motion.

 _Fuck. No…No he's not. Not here, not now! He_ _ **can't**_ _be._

Hermione, desperate to put a halt to things almost shouted her question at Ron, swiftly catching his loose hand which was still hovering in the air towards himself.  
"Let's have dinner tonight!?" _Brightest witch of your age, and you come up with_ _dinner_ _…tonight..?_ "Just the two of us. I can't remember the last time we had an actual date." She couldn't believe she had just basically given the man a time extension. He looked contemplative for a moment, before beaming at the thought of a romantic date.

"Brilliant love! Leave everything to me, you deserve it. Just be ready to go at half past 7," he planted a kiss on Hermione's still cheek before cheerily plonking himself back at his desk. As if that was the end of the conversation. _Like he can just dismiss me now._ "Oh and, put something special on," he added not even looking up from his desk. The brunette could do nothing but growl internally. The kind of growl that had transformed from a groan, still not quite a yell. As if screaming felt too juvenile. Nevertheless, she swiveled herself and with a whoosh of her work robes she was gone from his site.

She needed a minute alone in her office. Needed to find a way to stop the question he was bound to ask. Heck buying more time at this point would work, anything to get that magical brain of hers into gear. Anything for a solution.

She spent the entirety of that afternoon racking her brain. Filtering, devising and calculating to no end. Every outcome that didn't involve breaking Ron's heart lead back to the same place: a yes. She had no reason, logical or otherwise, to tell him no. Well… aside from the obvious, but she couldn't bare breaking the man's heart. Let alone turning her back on basically the whole of her adoptive family. _Gods_.

It wasn't until she had almost given up hope and finally gone back to reviewing Goblin law reform proposals, that she felt a warm tingle track its way into her stomach to form knots. Her body knew even before she did, and as goosebumps across her skin raised to attention, she watched Ginny Weasley abruptly storm to the front of her desk.

"Ginny." Stunned, no other words came to her well practiced vocabulary. All her breath was stolen in a millisecond, and she felt as though her heart would surely beat its way out of her body any moment. Meanwhile the gorgeous redhead stood in front of her with fists clenched. And if the redhead's face wasn't set so determinedly, the older witch could've sworn the woman planted in her office came off as… what was it almost...frightened?

"Are you going to say yes?" The question came so much without warning, she was shocked there wasn't even a hi or hello. Of course, she knew what the younger Gryffindor was referring to but she just couldn't bring herself to speak. _Then that's a definite yes to Ron proposing._

The older witch took a minute to gain some composure, her own quill still in hand, while the impatient Weasley stood before her foot tapping impatiently and arms crossed.  
"I don't know." She replied simply, and it was the truth. She couldn't commit or face ether decision, but the younger woman obviously had very different intentions.

"So, in other words you're going to say no?" The woman scoffed back.

"Ginny," she took a second to pause seriously, mounting her quill into its holder in a statement of focus. She knew she was pushing her buttons. Something about redheads always seemed to. "I don't think I'm ready for marriage. That is, I'm definitely not ready." Ginny rolled her eyes, sighing heavily.

"And I'm still getting no from all this. Can you at least get it over with then and tell him no. For the sake of my brother's heart." The audacity of the redhead was starting to get to Hermione. Nine months of nothing, and she thinks she can walk back into her life. Like she hadn't just gone MIA for almost a year. It was like, all Weasleys had this uncanny ability to test her patience. Almost to its limits.

"I'm not going to tell him no. And I'm not going to tell him no because it's just not the right time, but of course I still love your brother." Another eye roll. "I would _never_ hurt him like that." She finished sternly, hoping her tone of voice was enough to get the young Gryffindor to leave it.

"Well you could have fooled me." _And that's a no then._

"Gin," the older brunette feeling exasperated huffed loudly, pushing herself slowly up from her desk to stand. "You can't tell me what I should or shouldn't be doing in my love life. I wouldn't dream of hurting your brother, deliberately or otherwise!" She could see the younger woman's nostrils flaring, and as those same eyes narrowed in challenge she anticipated the predictable loss of temper.

"Then why the hell did he spend last night bawling his eyes out on my couch to Harry?!" The brunette didn't have words. Nothing. None at all. She was just trying to catch up mentally. "Tell me why I shouldn't be telling you," she chose the perfect moment to use sarcastic air quotations, "'what you should or shouldn't be doing in your love life', when it affects mine? When I have to listen in on my brother breaking down in the arms of his best mate at three in the morning? Huh?!" She didn't even know about her boyfriend's life anymore. Her _best_ friend. Ron was now hiding things from her, lying to her. _He's never lied to me before, about anything._

The older witch needed answers, and she needed them to both calm down. Thinking back to their days together at Hogwarts and hoping to Merlin it would still work, she raised her eyes to meet the brown pair she loved so dearly.

"Tell me what happened," she asked as softly as she could. "Please Gin," and she tried her hardest to stare right through the red head with every fibre of her being. The redhead woman froze in place, and Hermione did her best not to squeal internally from the small victory of still knowing the woman worked.

The younger of the two exhaled in almost defeat, trudging over to the visitor's chair sat directly in front of Hermione's solid desk before flopping herself into it haphazardly. She lent her right elbow in the arm of the chair, squeezing the bridge of her nose momentarily.

"Harry told me yesterday he wanted to get Ron out of the house so to speak," the youngest Weasley began. "Said he could tell that Ron had something to get off his chest. Which with Ron being Ron, means he needs to drink like a Grindylow in heat to open up." _That's the 'emotional range of a teaspoon' Ron she knew alright._ "They both had a drink or two each at The Leaky, before they ended up back at our place." Hermione had a brief moment of confusion.

"The two of them? There was no one else with them?" The brunette already knew the answer, but needed to hear it.

"No, just the two of them. Why, did he...?" But the other Gryffindor left the question hanging in the air, because she knew just what it meant. From the look of hurt on the other's face she knew. "Oh, Mione'. If I knew he had of I wouldn't have-"

"Its fine Gin, don't worry about it. Just _please_ , tell me what happened," the bookworm pleaded with the quidditch player to continue, voice almost cracking. The redhead nodded subtly.

"So once Harry thought he'd downed enough Firewhiskey, he started asking questions. And then questions led to answers. Answers ended up being…well," the younger witch hesitated.

"Ginny." She reached her hand across the desk to clutch at the others clenched fist, neither of them acknowledging the contact. But from the firm swallow Hermione heard from the other, she knew it was affecting her. "I need to know Gin." Ginny squinted her eyes shut for a moment.

"He knows you're not in love with him." Hermione's heart dropped, and she almost couldn't believe her ears. "I mean, he doesn't know…well, you know," Ginny gave her that look that only ever acknowledged their feelings for a split second. "But he thinks he's making you unhappy somehow. Knows how you've been distant and that things have changed between the two of you." Another heavy sigh left the young witch. "That's why he thought that proposing would be a great idea. Of course, anyone else would know it wouldn't be… bloody git." Hermione felt like she wanted to break down herself, but knew for both their sakes she could not. "He thinks he's doing something wrong."

And there it was. The one sentence that lead to the most guilt ridden, gut churning feeling she'd ever had the misery of experiencing in her life. _I'm breaking his fucking heart, and I'm not even realizing it. Granger, what's happened to you?_

Jerking her hand out of the other's calm grasp, she held her eyes closed to hold the tears she could feel brimming behind her eyelids. She couldn't do this anymore to them. To _either_ of them. Pulling them in different directions, toying with emotions. This wasn't the person she wanted to be in life. She couldn't be this person, and she'd do anything not to hurt the people closest to her in her life.

"I-I'm so sorry Gin. The last thing I ever wanted to do was hurt anyone," eyes still firmly shut Hermione could only hear the low wail of a chair leg across her office floor. Out of reflex she stood as well, opening her eyes as she did so she continued, a lone tear rolling down her cheek. "I don't know how to do this anymore Gin," the brunette felt utterly defeated. Like she had no options. She felt like she was on the run again, hunting horcruxes. Like she had been driven to dire circumstances but had no other choice than the one that lay ahead of her.

"Mione please," the redhead tried desperately to gain eye contact, knowing how quickly this beautiful woman could jump to all the wrong conclusions. "We'll work this out." No luck, and she found her voice wobbling sorely with emotion. "Hermione, _please."_

"I'm sorry." It was barely even at whisper level, but the tear streaked face of the redhead heard it as she gasped in utter surprise. There was nothing she could do, watching the woman she loved disappear before her eyes with a sudden pop, and a breathtaking rush of air.


End file.
